


Tuesday's Child

by EllieMurasaki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spn_bitesized, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Episode: s05e20 The Devil You Know, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-15
Updated: 2010-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:52:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieMurasaki/pseuds/EllieMurasaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>She'll let him keep his secrets.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tuesday's Child

**Author's Note:**

  * For [somnolentblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnolentblue/gifts), [too_rational](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=too_rational).
  * Inspired by [Cursed](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1295) by too_rational. 



> Title from an anonymous folksong (Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace).

It's Sunday morning, and she's going to confront Sam. The knife, the grave, fucking around with Brady behind her back, the secrets and the half-truths, all of it. But it has to wait till after Sam gets home from work, and meanwhile, she has Mass. Jess dresses up this time, picks out jewelry. The necklace Brady gave her suits this blouse perfectly.

It's Saturday, and when Jess changes the sheets, there's a knife between the mattress and the headboard, a wicked curved thing that can't possibly be legal. All sorts of wild scenarios fly through her head, mostly involving Sam killing her in her sleep. That's crazy, she tells herself. Completely absurd. But it's Sam's turn to cook and Jess can hear the sound of the knife on the cutting board, and while he's holding a sharp pointy thing is the absolute last time she wants to ask him if he's secretly a serial killer.

It's Friday, and the newspaper says somebody dug up Jacqueline Carver's grave twenty miles away, somebody who left blood at the scene. Jess pictures Sam in a graveyard, shovel in hand, and swallows hard.

It's Thursday, and Jess and Brady and Zach and Becky and Amy and Nikki and Heidi and Curtis are trading stupid parent stories. Sam's there, his head in Jess's lap and his feet in Brady's, and whenever anyone asks him to share, inside three sentences somebody else is off on another story.

It's Wednesday, and Sam comes home late and dirty and bleeding. He falls asleep before Jess can ask him why. Tucked in one of his textbooks as a bookmark is the obituary of Jacqueline Carver.

It's Tuesday, and Jess traces the parallel lines across Sam's side while she fucks him. They're like claw marks. She won't ask. She'll let him keep his secrets.

It's Monday, and Sam comes home late, smelling vaguely of pot and cheap beer. Which means Brady went on another bender over the weekend (could be worse; could be 160-proof and crack) and Sam confiscated his stash, and if Brady was at all horny, then they fucked. Jess isn't sure they know she knows. It's sweet, really, how Sam keeps Brady on an even keel like that. She wishes they'd tell her about it, though. She'd like to see if they'll let her watch.

It's Sunday afternoon, and when Jess gets home from Mass, the first thing she does is tackle Sam out of his desk chair and kiss him like there's no tomorrow. The necklace Brady gave her burns between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic by too_rational:
> 
> ____spacer____


End file.
